Page 32 of Sweet Heart for the Bear

Not that most guys are interested in me like that anyway.

The few dates I’ve been on since Edgar the Asshole have been…seriously lackluster.

Like lukewarm oatmeal levels of boring.

I don’t know if it’s men in general who’ve changed, or if the wholeswipe-right-to-fuckculture has killed actual dating.

Either way, I’m not looking for a quick lay.

I’m not looking for anything, actually.

I mean, I’m too busy.

I have the pizzeria. MJ and Dina. I have bills to juggle.

I don’t even have time for this date.

But Dina had lookedsohopeful when she told me about the app.

And MJ, ever the skeptic, actually agreed.

So here I am.

Dressed up. Checking my Uber driver’s status.

MJ leans over, peering at my phone. “So, you’re meeting him at the restaurant, right? The meat place?”

“Yeah. It’s a Brazilian rodízio restaurant,” I tell them, quickly sending the location so they have it.Just in case.

Dina snatches my phone, zooming in on the menu. “Ooooh. That looks amazing.”

I nod.It does.

But my mind isn’t focused on getting my meat on—not in theculinarysense, anyway.

Instead, it’s spinning over the mystery man I’m about to meet.

Who is he?

What does he look like?

Is he normal?

Please, for the love of carbs, let him be normal.

Luckily, thanks to Dina’s incognito settings, neither of us has any idea what the other actually looks like.

No name, no face—just two mystery users thrown together by an algorithm and fate

My profile?CC2319.

CC for my initials. 2319 because—well, let’s just say my love for a certain Disney movie runs deep.

What can I say?I’ve always had a soft spot for furry monsters.

And my date? HV1234.

HV—no idea. 1234 seems pretty literal. And unimaginative.

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